


baby that's all we need

by cavatez



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Boys Kissing, Drug Use, Implied Sexual Content, Language, M/M, Shotgunning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-06
Updated: 2013-03-06
Packaged: 2017-12-04 12:31:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/710807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cavatez/pseuds/cavatez
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry and Zayn get high and make out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	baby that's all we need

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on [lj](http://cavatez.livejournal.com/2309.html). I was inspired by [this](http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m87yeqxuar1ru737qo1_400.gif) and [this](http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m87yeqxuar1ru737qo2_500.gif) and my silly little head canon that Harry and Zayn like to get high, which leads to making out. Title is from Colt 45 by Afroman.

It’s not particularly a thing that happens often, or ever, but Harry can feel the thrum of Zayn’s heartbeat under his thighs, and he wonders why it has taken this long to escalate to this. He grinds his hips against Zayn’s waist, smirks lightly, and purrs at the sound of Zayn moaning under him. Harry bites down hard on his lower lip, feeling it swell in his mouth under the sharp pressure of his teeth, and focuses on Zayn’s lips, that also appear to be swollen. Swollen, and pink, and Harry wants them in his own mouth. He glances up to Zayn’s eyes, that have locked themselves upon Harry’s hips, and he thrusts against Zayn once more. Once, twice, and after the third time there’s another moan let loose, this time escaping from the back of Harry’s throat.

 

Zayn’s hands have found themselves on Harry’s hips, holding him steady perhaps, though Harry doesn’t exactly remember climbing into Zayn’s lap, he has no intention of leaving his current spot. He leans into Zayn’s chest, breathing in against his collarbones, laughing against the older boy’s soft skin.

 

"What're we doin'?" Zayn asks into Harry's hair. Fuckfuckfuck. Harry can't even hide the shiver that takes over his entire body, and he noses more into Zayn's chest.

 

Harry shrugs, head moving from Zayn’s collarbones, nestling in the crook of his neck. Zayn almost swears he can hear him purring, and runs his fingers softly through Harry’s hair.

 

"Dunno. Fun though?"

 

Zayn just laughs, because if he expected anything with good reason he doesn’t really know Harry at all. The younger boy, who, almost like clockwork, calls Zayn up once a week (usually Friday), mumbles a quick “busy?” and hangs up before Zayn even has the time to make a decision. He’s not going to say know, he’s aware of that, but maybe once he’d like to play with the idea. Test Harry’s reaction a bit. He laughs again, because really? It’s Harry, he’ll just show up anyway, pounding on the door and howling his deep, “open the fucking door, Malik.”

 

It’s the same thing: few beers and a joint. (Maybe a couple joints). Niall sometimes joins, but mostly it’s Zayn and Harry. A kind of bonding ritual if you will, only they are already plenty bond, but it’s their thing. Liam and Louis usually go out for dinner, which is their thing, and when Niall doesn’t join Harry and Zayn he’s at the pub with Josh. Everyone has a thing.

 

This thing, though, has never ascended to Harry crawling into Zayn’s lap and grinding against his abs. That’s definitely a new edition.

 

Zayn doesn’t hate it.

 

In fact, he really (really, really, really, really!) wouldn’t mind kissing Harry, who by the looks of it probably wouldn’t mind kissing back.

 

Harry has pulled himself from Zayn’s neck; his green eyes dark, hooked on Zayn’s mouth, and his tongue snakes out of his own mouth and coats his lips. Zayn’s heartbeat increases, and before he knows it he’s leaning forward, forward into Harry’s mouth.

 

“Mmm,” Harry mutters, but pulls away. Zayn pouts, because of course Harry is just being a fucking tease as he avoids his eyes, smirks, and pulls the joint they had forgotten from between the leather cushions.

 

“Not out?” Zayn shoots, holding steady against Harry’s hips once more, because he’s definitely not going anywhere now.

 

“Probably a hit left.” Harry turns around and grabs the lighter from the coffee table, holds the roach so it’s barely touching his lip, flicks on the lighter, and fucking smirks. It’s almost sinister as he says with a shrug, “wanna share?”

 

He winces as Zayn’s nails dig into Harry’s hips, the pressure pushing through the denim on his jeans, close to breaking skin. Tease, Zayn thinks. Fucking tease.

 

Harry holds the flame to the roach, and inhales deeply with the joint not quite touching his soft lips, but he can feel the heat almost scorching the chapped skin. Zayn’s jaw drops slightly as he watches Harry’s chest rise; inhaling every last bit of smoke he can fit in his lungs before pulling the joint away, and tossing it into the ashtray behind him. He places his hands over Zayn’s, that have still not left his hips, and leans in. He watches Zayn’s tongue shoot out of his mouth, and soften his drying lips. Harry tries not to exhale, to moan, the smoke out at the sight of Zayn’s pink and moist lips that he wants on anything.

 

Harry’s bottom lip brushes against Zayn’s and he exhales; Zayn taking it all in one inhale; letting the smoke fill his lungs. Letting his hands slide out from under Harry’s, and up the younger boy’s side. He grins slightly as he begins to exhale, and trails his fingertips up Harry’s side, feeling him wiggle underneath the touch and inch in ever so closer. Zayn’s heartbeat increases again, bumbumbum, as Harry presses his lips to his own and wraps his long fingers around Zayn’s neck.

 

Zayn pushes back against his mouth, letting his hands move up Harry’s back and into his wild curls. Harry leans into it; melting under his touch. He grinds against Zayn’s lap once more, sending his tongue crashing into Zayn’s lips, willing them to let him in. Zayn sighs heavily, parts his lips and their tongues meet in the middle.

 

Fuckfuckfuck.

 

Zayn always imagined Harry would be somewhat of a good kisser. He’d watch his younger band mate lock lips with Louis countless times, and he always met lips with the other band members (Zayn included), but never like this. His tongue massaged against Zayn’s in a steady rhythm, occasionally rolling his tongue into Zayn’s mouth, causer the older boy to thrust his hips upwards towards the boy on top of him.

 

Harry pulled back peppering kisses against Zayn’s lower lip, trailing to his chin, and ending on the side of his neck where he began pulling loose bits of skin into his mouth; sucking dark, purple bruises. Zayn felt Harry’s hand move from the spot it was previously placed on his neck, down his sides, brush against the waistband of his jeans, and end at the button.

 

“What’re we doin’?” Zayn strains out.

 

Harry pulls off of Zayn’s neck with a pop; he pushes a fingertip to his neck where Harry’s lips just left, pushing against the raw skin, feeling the skin bruise under his touch.

 

“Dunno.” Harry says with a smirk, unbuttoning Zayn’s jeans; pushing himself between the older boy’s legs, landing on the floor with a thud. “Fun though.”


End file.
